


It's Pretty Hard To Run When You're Tied Up

by orphan_account



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky Is A Mafia Boss, Bucky Is Older Than Steve, By A Lot, He's 30, He's like 16, M/M, Mafia AU, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Is Young, Steve is a virgin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:57:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has worked for Hydra as an assassin/hitman since he was seven. Despite being only sixteen, he's the best at killing people and not leaving a trace. When Hydra sends him to kill James "Bucky" Barnes, the leader of the Russian Mafia, his reputation is sent spiralling down the drain. </p><p>Bucky Barnes is the leader of the Russian Mafia. At the age of thirty he's living better than most people. He got cars, money, everything a anyone could want. He's a man with a mysterious past. When a little twig of an assassin comes after him his life is changed drastically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Pretty Hard To Run When You're Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me in my trash can [Here](http://www.frnknstn-iero.tumblr.com)

Steve’s mother died in a house fire when he was four. He didn’t remember much about that night except his mother telling him not to worry and that everything would be okay. When one of the many firefighters evacuating the building pulled him out, he didn’t realize how badly burned the right side of his body was. It was completely red and blistered. Some places were so badly scorched that the skin was melted off. It was only when he was in the ambulance and some of the adrenaline wore off that he started feeling the intense pain. 

He was in and out of consciousness for the next few days. In between getting his painkillers and having the bandages changed, someone named Matt Murdock showed up to ask him some questions about his age and even about his mother. Matt told his that she had died in the fire, but Steve didn’t completely understand what that meant until he seen death for himself. 

It was his eighth day in the hospital and he was moved out of the ICU. They put him in a shared room with a young man who went by the name of Wade. Steve didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he did know that the man next to him was very sick. Almost every day another young man would come into their room and talk to Wade. This went on for two weeks and in that time Steve learned that Wade’s visitor was named Peter. They were very close and would often curl up on Wade’s bed. Sometimes they even talked to Steve. He began to really like them and started considering them his best friends. One day, when Peter wasn’t there, Wade’s heart monitor started making a loud noise while the man was asleep. A huge group of doctors rushed into their room. They gathered around his body, conversing in quick, low voices. Steve wasn’t sure what was happening, but soon one of the doctors said something a little louder to be heard over the rest.

“Wade Winston Wilson, time of death three-oh-seven, June thirteenth.” Steve was quite startled when Peter burst into the room with tears streaming down his face. He thought Peter looked to be in extreme pain. When the brunette rushed over to Wade's unmoving body, he collapsed in despair. He stayed like that for a very long time and Steve didn’t make a sound no matter how much he wanted to. Much later, he tentatively asked Peter what happened to Wade. The young man jumped upon hearing Steve’s voice and hurried over to him. Peter clutched his unburned hand tightly in his own. 

“He d-died.” Peter stuttered out. When Steve asked what that meant, Pete laughed sadly and told him that it was when someone leaves earth forever and goes to heaven. 

“My mommy died too, but I think she’ll come back.” Steve said cheerfully. The young man’s head snapped up and he looked very upset again.

“Do you have a daddy or any brothers or sisters?” When Steve told him no, Peter went on to ask if he had any aunties or uncles or any family at all. Steve didn’t know of any and he told Pete that. Peter gave him the best hug he could without touching Steve’s burns.

Peter visited Steve up until the young boy was taken to a place called ‘The Brooklyn Boys Orphanage’. Steve was told that that’s where all the little boys nobody wanted went by the mean old hag of a lady that brought him there. Steve knew that his mother wanted him, but then he remembered what Peter said about people who were dead. 

Steve’s first few weeks at the orphanage were uneventful, save for his almost daily asthma attacks and a few instances where he passed out because he didn’t get enough food. It was well into his fourth week that the other kids started spitting abuse at him as he walked by. They’d call him ‘sicko’ and ‘the walking disease’. The kids were cruel and the caretakers even more so. They’d assign wildly difficult chores and if they weren’t done right the children would be hit. Food was scarce. The kids often had to fight to get what little food there was. Steve was miserable. He missed his mom and Peter and Wade. He just wanted to go home.

“Hey! Sicko! Watch where you’re going! I don’t want to get a disease from you, you dirty little rat!” Steve fliched as he was kicked by an anonymous kid in amongst the crowd. He didn’t know why they were after his today. Usually he had done something, like accidentally bump into one of the boys or backtalk to them. Today though, it seemed they were feeling particularly spiteful. They had ripped up the drawing that Steve was working on, threw his inhaler down the stairs and then start hurting him. The group usually kept to hitting where it wouldn’t be seen. Not that it would matter, the caretakers hit Steve almost as much as the boys did. But today they were attacking him everywhere. Soon Steve felt his throat tighten up and his lungs stopped getting enough air. He tried to beg them to stops but couldn’t get the words out. When Steve’s vision started blacking out, something got thrown at him. It was his inhaler. He put it to his mouth and pumped it. Almost immediately, Steve felt the invisible hand squeezing his lungs let up. The boys left him gasping for breath at the top of the stairs. 

Steve suffered through years of this abuse, from the ages of four until seven, then his shitty life got spun in a wildly different direction. 

 

\+ + + + +

Bucky Barnes is not a nice man by any means. He is the leader of the Russian Mafia in Brooklyn, a spot filled by his father and grandfather. All his aunts and uncles have a place among the ranks. The Barnes family has been in power within the Mafia, dating back to three generations before the Soviet era began. Barnes is the American name that his family took when some ‘Mafia business’ called Ioann, Katenka and Yegor Krupin over to the U.S. Ioann and Katenka were Bucky’s grandparents, they were in the high ranks of the Mafia back in Russia when Katenka had Yegor, Bucky’s father. They got called over to America and got settled in a place called Brighton Beach in southern Brooklyn. Ioann and Katenka became John and Katherine Barnes and Yegor was known as George from then on. They quickly climbed to the top of the ranks and by the time John died, George was old enough to take over in his position. In 1983, when George was twenty-four, he met a woman named Winifred and was instantly taken by her. A year later they were married and then another year after that they had Yasha Barnes. They called the baby Yasha up until he started school, then he was James. They died in a car accident, just after James’ twenty-first birthday. 

James ended up securing his birthright of taking over his father’s position as Pakhan. He was the boss and he controlled everything. James was the best Pakhan Brooklyn had seen since the Russian Mafia popped up there. He was incredibly loyal to those who earned it. But loyalty doesn’t make a nice man. James killed the Irish mob men and the Italian Mafia thugs. He was unyielding, lest it came to children and innocent women. He stopped the human-trafficking and if he heard about rape, child abuse or molestation those people got ‘special treatment’. Rapists got their cocks and/or hand chopped off. Child abusers had both legs broken and molesters got a knife or three to the stomach. James was very protective over kids and women seeing as he had a sixteen year old sister.

Her name was Natalia. She had been adopted by James’ parents when he was fourteen and she was just a newborn. Just like her older brother, she went by her Russian name until she started school, after that, to everyone except James she was Natasha. He was her Yasha and she was his Natalia. James was insanely protective of her, he always was, but when Natasha was thirteen she was kidnapped by the Irish. They beat and raped her for a week and a half before James busted in and took out the entire room of Irish mobsters. Anyone who didn’t know Natasha, would think that she was totally fine but James knew the truth. Under her layers of coldness and indifference Natasha was scared. She was the strongest person James had the pleasure of knowing but there were still nights where Natasha would crawl into his bed and trust his to keep the nightmares away. 

“Yasha… Yasha wake up.” James woke to hear his sister whispering. She was standing at his bedside in her pyjamas. They consisted of one of James’ old, worn in shirts and a pair of shorts. Natasha, while loving to dress in tight pants and leather jackets, was a sucker for anything that came from her older brother. Be it T-shirts, sweater or even sweatpants Natasha would steal them from his wardrobe and make them her own clothes.

When his little sister climbed in James’ huge king size bed, he pulled her to his chest and asked her what her nightmares were about this time. Sometimes they were of when she was captured by the Irish, but other times they were of her time at the Red Room. That was where she went to school, but it was hardly a school at all. They experimented new diets and training regiments that left the girls who went there incredibly malnourished. They were professionally trained in ballet and worked to the bone for years until the school was shut down. Natasha attended there from the ages of four to eleven. She was hurt beyond belief and quite broken, James was the one who put her back together. 

James always slept better when there was someone else in his bed. His nightmares haunted his and the comfort of another person often helped his rest easier. James shifted around until he and Natasha were back to back, ready to defend each other if need be. So they slept in peaceful comradery until the light of dawn poured between the curtains and woke the siblings. 

When James went out after he woke up, it was to see the damage done by the Irish to one of his buildings after a particularly careless bombing. That one happened to house the girls that were with Natasha in the Red Room. He offered for them and their families to come live safely, under his protection. Luckily no one was hurt. The Irish were always sloppy and spontaneous in their attempts to get a the Russians. 

James knew exactly who had bombed the building and when his men found the little Irish asshole who went by the codename Utron. James pulled out his teeth, toenails and fingernails, electrified him and then nearly drowned him three times, each time pulling Ultron out before he went unconscious. James viciously carved into Ultron’s alarmingly pale skin. He took great pleasure and felt no remorse when he broke every bone in the Irishman’s body and then put a bullet through his skull.


End file.
